You Don't Know Me
by texasPanzer
Summary: The team investigate the murder of a young and promising Navy couple in their home when they appeared to not have an enemy in the world.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to NCIS. They're owned by MSNBC.**

It was winter in Washington D.C and a good layer of fresh snow had fallen during the night blanketing the streets and the trees in pretty white. When the sun rose there was a chill in the air that the citizens staved off with thick jackets, scarves, and wool hats. Because of the snow and the ice on the road school was cancelled so the neighborhoods were loud with all of the children playing brisk snowball fights, one side of the neighborhood against the other.

One of the children wearing a bright red hat was named Susanne. She was 10 and running away from three of her friends armed with snowballs that were raining down all around her. She smiled and cried as she came running around the corner of her neighbor's house. Her friends followed her right into an ambush of others waiting around the corner. It was the OK Corral shootout with snowballs, point blank range shots where those struck fell in dramatic fashion. Susanne had survived the battle and walked by the prostrated bodies of her friends cut down around her, their chests with a dust of white snow marking where they've been shot. They kept still, silent waiting then Susanne couldn't help but laugh at her friend Danny who lay with his red tongue sticking out. Her laughter was contagious as the others began laughing as well before they sat up and dusted themselves off.

"Let's get the others!" Susanne said walking back towards the front of the house to see where the others were. The lawn she stood on belonged to her neighbor, who she knew as Mr. Walker. He was a sailor, a nice man and didn't mind that the children played on his small lawn. But before Susanne could call back to the others, the door to Mr. Walker's house burst open and a man staggered out onto the front porch then collapsed to his hands and knees. With wide eyes Susanne slowly walked towards the man and recognized the blood smeared face of Mr. Walker gasping for breath then reaching for her.

All she could do was scream.

The elevator doors opened with a chime and out stepped Ziva and DiNozzo with a cup of coffee for both of them. "What did you do last night, Tony?" Ziva inquired as she reached her desk and lay her thick jacket on the back of the chair.

"Watched the entire series, The Pacific" the Italian sighed. "Ten episodes. What a ride" a smug smile on his lips as he did the same with his jacket before sitting down.

"What's that?" the Israeli asked.

"W-what? What's The Pacific?" Tony sat upright, "Are you kidding?"

She had a serious look on her face, "I don't kid."

He couldn't believe it. Running his hands over his well groomed dark hair Tony sat up, walked around his desk and stood before Ziva, "It's a series by HBO covering Marines in the Pacific theater in World War II."

"Hence 'The Pacific'" she pointed out.

Tony didn't know if she was being sarcastic or not. Chuckling and looking briefly at the ceiling his hands went to his hips, "Ah, Ziva. Sometimes you just need to get with the times!"

"You mean the newspaper?"

"Okay, now you're just messing with me" holding up a hand. "The Pacific has many iconic Marines. Sledge Hammer, Chesty Puller. Basilone..."

"Who's Chesty Puller?" Ziva asked.

Now Tony was beside himself. Throwing up his hands he exclaimed, "A-are you kidding! Don't let the boss hear you ask that. He'll end you," his tone dropping to a near whisper out of fear that he would be creeping in behind him.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, the silver haired, stone faced leader came marching towards his desk and Tony spun towards him and stepped away, "Hi, boss" Tony said nervously.

Ziva feared and respected her boss, but was not afraid of asking questions, "Gibbs, who's Chesty Puller?"

"A Marine Corps legend. Earned five Navy Crosses and a DSC. He's the epitome of a Marine," Gibbs replied. "Grab your gear. A Navy lieutenant and her husband were shot," grabbing his service pistol in his center desk drawer. Without another word he headed towards the elevator with the rest of the team following close behind.

During the ride to the crime scene with Ziva and McGee riding in the backseat, Tony riding shotgun with his eyes protected by sunglasses, it was Ziva that broke the tension, "I know that I don't know much American history, but can you tell me more about this Chester Puller?"

"It's 'Chesty' Puller" Tony scoffed.

"Lieutenant-General Puller was a career Marine officer," Gibbs said calmly, "He served in Haiti, Nicaragua, and in the Pacific during the war and commanded the 1st Marines at Chosin in Korea."

"I remember that," Ziva said leaning forward, "That's when they were surrounded by the Chinese."

"Yep" Gibbs said with a thin smirk, "Chesty said, "Don't forget that you're First Marines! Not all the Communists in Hell can overrun you!"

Coming to the scene the D.C police had cordoned off the area, but Ducky and Palmer had not arrived yet to retrieve the body. Walking up the front lawn a police officer asked for their ID and signed them in to evidence before allowing them further. Pausing at the front porch where Lt. Andrew Walker had fallen his body was covered in a plastic tarp to preserve evidence. Inside there was more.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Emily Walker was found in the kitchen sprawled on the ground with a large pool of blood coming from her chest. The shot that killed her appeared to be a through and through as there was terrible hole in the wall beside the fridge. Police had searched the home and found no one. According to information from the neighbors it was only the married couple living in the home. Both of their cars were in the garage, but there was a pair of shoe prints going out the back door.

It appeared to be senseless. The home was small, built in the 40s and had three bedrooms and one bath that the Walker's had purchased 3 years ago. It was immaculate with short blue carpets in all of the rooms except white tile in the kitchen and bath, leather couch, love seat, and recliner and a 70" flat panel television mounted on the wall and the white walls covered in photographs of their journeys together all over the world. Gibbs approached the lead detective on the case who informed him, nothing appeared to be missing and there were no shell casings or any other weapons found. Emily's purse was still on the counter and Andrew's wallet was still in his pocket. Both of them were wearing their uniforms ready to go to work on base. Both had their cell phones and the computer was still in the office. Their neighbors say that they didn't hear or see anyone enter or leave the house leading to and from the discovery of the body and the Walkers were quiet but respected members of the neighborhood.

"We have people coming to take the bodies," Gibbs said. As soon as he said that there was a wail of sirens marking the arrival of Ducky and his assistant Palmer. Coming to a unsteady stop at the curb Palmer stepped out to get the gurney. Wearing a thick gray wool hat and finger mittens Ducky approached the front porch, knelt beside the body and carefully peeled the tarp back. Curling his lips at the sight of the blood he muttered, "Tragic. The house is suppose to be a place of sanctuary."

"Now it's a murder site" Tony replied.

Ducky went inside to begin his examination on Emily. She was petite, 5'1" with long red hair in a tight bun behind her head with almond shaped green eyes with a bit of mascara and red lipstick she had youth with tight facial cheeks and half pursed lips. She was pretty, but he wasn't looking at that. What he found of interest was what was on the front of her uniform. There was the entry at her heart. There was blood there that had streamed from the wound, but what he leaned in to look at was a certain spray of blood around her uniform. 'Interesting' he said to himself. He went back to Andrew's body and noted the bullet entry and exit of his body then went to the bullet hole in the wall. It was bigger than the diameter of his pinky finger. An officer was taking pictures of it and Ducky asked that the bullet be extracted carefully.

It took several minutes watching Ducky move about the house as his experienced mind was putting things together. With no shell casings and no sign of a break in he stood at the head of Emily's body then looked at the bullet hole in the wall. Gibbs' knew his mind was moving, trying to put together a scenario, at least a rudimentary one that they could get some hints on.

Seeing the icy blue eyes of Gibbs looking at him Ducky approached with his gloves on. "What do you got for me, Ducky?" Gibbs asked softly.

With a tired sigh Ducky looked at the open front door at Andrew's body then twisted it back towards Emily's. "I find it strange that no one heard the shot as the hole in the wall has to be at least .45 caliber. But, based on what I think happened was the bullet hit Mr. Walker in the back, exited him and entered Mrs. Walker and exited her body and went into the wall."

"Both shot by the same bullet?" Gibbs asked.

"It would appear that way, but I won't be sure until I get them on the table" Ducky sighed. "It's a shame. They're both so young. By the looks of it, it would appear that the husband moved his body to shield his wife, but his body wasn't enough" his voice trailed off there as he lowered his head and walked around Gibbs.

Walking out of the house into the cold air Gibbs carefully stepped around the body and his team followed.

"What are you thinking, boss? Burglary gone wrong?" asked Tony.

"No," Gibbs turned to him with a stern tone. "Don't guess. Get facts. Most murders are personal," then he flicked his gaze to McGee waiting for him with wide eyes. "McGee, stay here and process evidence. Get on that computer of theirs, and talk with the neighbors. Ziva? Go to Lt. Emily Walker's unit, talk to her friends there. DiNozzo?"

"I got Robert Walker's job. On it" Tony smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to NCIS. They're owned by MSNBC.**

Because of the snow and ice, progress was slow. Many business and military facilities shut down and more snow was in the forecast in the next few days. As they tried to get in touch with the victim's friends and family, McGee was pondering something. The husband, Lt. Andrew Walker, the name was familiar, but he couldn't put the face to the event. When they arrived back at the office, McGee went to his computer and let the search engine work its magic. Beside him DiNozzo had taken off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair. "Whatcha doin', probie?" Tony asked.

"Something about the Lt. Andrew Walker," McGee said not taking his eyes off the computer, "THERE!" the search engine came through with a several pages of links all addressing the same event. Coming over to see for himself, Tony watched with wide eyes as McGee clicked the first link to YouTube. It was a cellphone video from at the USS Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor on a beautiful clear day. It was about two minutes long, and from the start grossly overweight man was running about the interior of the white walled memorial screaming at the top of his lungs about someone out to get him and that this place was cursed, but much of what he said couldn't be understood as it was more roar than actual words. He flailed about as if being attacked by hundreds of angry, invisible, bees. Others try to calm him down and even grappled to restrain him, but he broke free and launched himself out of one of the memorial's open view ports and into the water and onto the submerged deck of the broken battleship.

"Oh, geez" Tony winced at the man's belly flop. Still flailing when he surface, apparently he couldn't swim either.

Moments later a man jumps in and swims towards the drowning man, but instead of taking the help, the fat man begins fighting and tries to swim towards the Arizona's #3 turret ring, the only part of the ship that is still above the waterline. He tries climbing out of the water and into the turret ring that would take him into the bowels of the doomed ship, but the good Samaritan doesn't give up and pulls him back into the water by wrapping his arms around his ankles and pulling him back. They struggle, but the rescuer deals several right hooks that stuns the man enough for him to be dragged back towards the dock on the East end of the memorial. Right as they reach it, the man tries to fight again to escape screaming that there's something in the water trying to kill him. Other people rush to the dock and haul the pudgy man out of the water. When he tries to fight them, a sailor comes and delivers a right hook so powerful that it knocks him out cold. The good Samaritan is helped out as well to the applause of others. He sits for a moment on the wet dock staring into the water before looking up and staring at the cellphone.

"That's the lieutenant!" Tony pointed out.

"I knew it" McGee smiled and clapped his hands.

DiNozzo straightened his back and looked down at him, "So, what's that mean?"

Looking up McGee began, "Because of this," pointing at the video, "The man was banned for life from Pearl Harbor.

Nodding for a moment that did sound interesting, "But, what are you getting at? You think that nut ball is somehow connected to his murder?"

"Perhaps" McGee responded, "The man was identified as Calvin Hart, a man with a long history of mental problems. He one time set his backyard on fire saying that Indian zombies were rising up from their graves because his house was built on a Native American burial ground."

That made Tony scoff while shoving his hands into his pant's pockets, "Any of that true?"

"No, because he was living in a van down by the boat docks. He burned the ground around it and a nearby house to ash. He was arrested, charged with arson, and sent to a mental facility for five years. When this happened at Pearl, Mr. Hart tried filing lawsuits against the Navy, the Department of Defense, Pearl Harbor itself, and against Lt. Walker. All of them were denied, and the defense hinged partly on this video showing his mental state. All of his finances dried up, his parents disowned him, and he was forced back into a mental halfway house in Missouri."

Drawing a deep breath and letting it out with a mocking sigh Tony wasn't convinced, "See, Probie. That's all well and good, but how does a man with no money and living in Missouri kill two lieutenants in their house in Virginia?" McGee was stumped and couldn't answer. Clapping a hand on his counterpart's shoulder Tony jested, "Don't worry. We all have misfires."

A few moments later Ziva returned from her mission. Draping her coat over her chair and holding a warm cup of coffee in one hand she approached the two and asked if they got anything interesting. "Nothing special" Tony said, "But...Probie here has a video you might like."

"A video? It better not be porn again, Tony" Ziva coldly warned.

"It's not. I swear," Tony scoffed and held up both hands at chest level. Backing away to give Ziva room she looked at the video as McGee pressed play. Watching the man fall into the water and then struggle and fight she pulled her head back surprised and asked, "Where is that?"

"The USS Arizona Memorial" McGee said.

"OH! That's in Pearl Harbor, right?" Ziva asked looking at McGee. She was still learning about American history. "That's where the Germans attacked on Christmas?"

Tony nearly fell over laughing. McGee tried to keep himself composed because Ziva could break him in two. "No" trying not to laugh, "No, Ziva. It...it was the Japanese and it on a Sunday, the 7th of December," he face falling into his hands as he nearly lost it.

Ziva looked at the two stunned for a moment then asked, "Why would the Japanese attack Hawaii? It's a lovely place."

"It was for the pineapples" Tony coughed having nearly suffocated from the lack of air while launching into his coat.

"You're mocking me, aren't you?" Ziva said coldly narrowing her eyes at the Italian. Tony immediately walked away. Looking back at McGee she asked, "Does this have to do with the case at all, McGee?"

"Well, I think it might be..." he began to say. "Because of this, the man was banned from Pearl Harbor for life, and all of his lawsuits failed. He is broke and forced to live in a halfway house for patients with mental disorders. Once more, Lt. Walker received the Navy and Marine Corps Medal for saving his life."

Ziva nodded and looked at the screen once again as it paused on the Lieutenant as he was looking at the water. Something was happening in this picture, something that the others had missed, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The only person who would know was now dead. "Well, aside from all of this, what else have you found out about the couple?"

"That's just it," McGee said slumping into his chair with a sigh, "Those that we were able to get a hold of all said the same thing, that the couple were happily married, they loved their jobs, and everyone liked them."

"Except for that guy" Ziva candidly pointed at the computer screen.

"Yes" McGee frowned.

"So, there's a couple that loved by everyone," said DiNozzo. "Then why are they dead?"

"That's why we're here, DiNozzo" said a cold voice. Tony jerked himself straight as Gibbs walked in without a jacket. It was said that he couldn't resist the cold because of his experience in the Corps. "What do you got for me?"

Ziva smiled and backed away towards her desk and beckoned the others to come look at the larger computer screen that was over Gibbs's desk. She had planned everything using her cellphone on the way up to show the others. "That's the thing" Ziva raised a finger then pressed the power button. The screen flashed blue for a moment before Ziva began the program, "Andrew Walker started out with the Navy's new PTSD rehabilitation program. That's where he met his wife, then known as Emily Dillard, who was a substance abuse councilor at the same facility. When they were married one of them had to be transferred out to another unit in order to prevent favoritism, and that was Emily. She was sent to the hospital doing rehabilitation to wounded Sailors and Marines. I was on the phone with one of their old friends. He said that there was one former employee had an ax to grind with both of them."

Tony was surprised. He looked at the glowing screen shaking his head lightly, "No one mentioned any trouble."

"It was before their time," Ziva continued, "This person is Shelly O'Malley," pressing another button that brought up her picture. She was a woman in her fifties with slightly sagging jowls, dark rings under her eyes, and frizzled gray hair. "She was a PTSD councilor along with Mr. Walker for about a year before she was fired for ranting that several of her coworkers were conspiring against her, saying that they were preventing her from being promoted. I talked to her former boss who said the reason she was fired was because she attacked one of her patients and then spent more time ranting that everyone was against her than actually doing her job. Good news is, she only lives a few miles from here."

"Ziva. Get her in here. Don't tell her why. Just say we have some questions for her" Gibbs said. Then he turned towards McGee and Tony silently asking for answers.

"Well...Boss," McGee said and waved for him to watch the video as well. In watching it they could see Gibb's stone face slowly turn into a murderous frown as he clenched both firsts hard enough that they shook. Looking out the corner of his eye McGee could see this and tried slowly moving his chair away from the old man as Tony stepped away towards Ziva's desk.

"Who is this idiot?" Gibbs growled as he finished the video.

"Well, his name is...Calvin Hart."

"And you think he's involved in this, McGee?" Gibbs slowly stood erect and stared down with his icy blue eyes and chilled the man to the bone.

"Well, sir. He tried suing Walker, the Navy, and others, but they were all rejected. He's broke, his family disowned him, and he's living in a mental halfway house. I think that he stands for revenge against Mr. Walker for everything that he lost."

"Good" Gibbs nodded slightly. Now they had two persons of interest. "McGee, DiNozzo..."

Tony was silently praying that Gibbs didn't send them to miserable Missouri, then came the words, "Contact whoever you have to, get to the bottom of this. Clear him or find out more about him."

Tony let out a long sigh, "On it, boss" as he felt the weight of the world off his shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to NCIS. They're owned by MSNBC.

Using their desk phones to contact Shelly O'Malley Calvin Hart, both McGee and DiNozzo prepared themselves for a headache when the other side picked up the phone.

Hunched forward over his desk with the receiver in one hand and the other rubbing his temple, McGee was trying to force some words out, but was constantly being overruled by Hart. "Mister...Mister...Mister Hart, yes, I'm with NCIS. No. No. I didn't hack your internet, sir. How did I get your number? Well, sir, it's not YOUR number. It belongs to the facility you live in...No. No, sir. I found it using the Phone Book." The more he talked the more he wanted to slam his head into the desk. He was going around in circles with this guy. Hart's words were disjointed, incoherent, and in his excited state much of it wasn't even words, but yells.

Next to him Tony was hitting a brick wall as well. Shelly O'Malley lived only a few minutes away, but she was unwilling to come in for many reasons and they were coming out as long rants about government agencies out to get her and her family. Realizing that he could just sit back and not really listen and watch his colleague in agony, Tony whispered to McGee who was face down on his desk, "How areyou doing, Probie?"

McGee didn't answer him. Instead, he tried to force in a few words over Mr. Hart, "Listen to me, Mr...Mr. Hart? Mr. Hart!" then his forehead hit the desk in frustration, "Mr. Hart. I didn't hack your phone line. Yes, I'm certain I didn't. How did I get your number then? It's not your number. It's the number to the facility..." What he didn't say was the facility that he resides in had struck up a novel way of keep tabs on their patients. They gave them cell phones with tracking chips in them. The cell phones could only call emergency numbers, the facility itself and two programmed numbers for family. The tracking chips couldn't be turned off and the patients didn't know about the tracking.

McGee was able to make headway at first with the facility who said that Hart had been allowed a pass to leave the facility to visit his grandmother who lived in Richmond, Virginia and he was currently there. Yes! McGee thought, there was a chance. They gave him the cell phone number after they verified themselves that he was still at his Grandmother's house. When he finally connected with Hart, that's when it felt like hitting a brick wall.

"What's going on?" Ziva asked as she looked at the two.

Clapping a hand over the mouth piece of the receiver, Tony hissed, "This woman is nuttier than a fruit cake!"

The Israeli paused for a moment then asked in a serious tone, "Wait. What? How can a fruit cake have nuts when it's supposed to be a fruit cake?"

Tony's eyes hung open wanting to say something snark, but his concentration was thrown off when Shelly began speaking again. Wanting to hear this for herself, Ziva calmly walked to his side of the desk and pressed the speaker phone button. Caught off guard at first, Tony hung up the phone and Shelly's raspy voice was heard. "...I was working with the CIA. I was in contact with the director, and he said to me that there were people hired by the KGB that were out to kill my family because of what I knew."

Silently looking at Tony, Ziva's eyebrows buckled in confusion. Not wanting to be heard Tony quickly took a pen and jotted down on a pad of paper, "Nut!"

Shelly continued her rant, "This stems from when I was in High School. I was on the swim team."

"You are a swimmer?" Tony asked.

"Yes! I was! I was the best swimmer on the team. I made two world records in 100 meter swimming. You can look for yourself. I'm in the books."

Ziva thought, 'That's something I could do' and went for her computer leaving poor Tony to continue talking to her, "Well, listen, Mrs. O'Malley, what I was calling about was your job with the Navy as a councilor. I understand that you were fired..."

Before he could finish Shelly spoke up, "I was fired because there were people in the organization out to get me."

It sounded like a fascinating story in her mind, but, Tony didn't want to be going around and around in circles with her because he was straying away from his questions and conducting a pronoun game of 'They are out to get me' and not saying who 'They are. Tony continued to convince her to come to the office, but the snow was a factor.

"How about this, Mrs. O'Mally, you come here and talk it over a good cup of coffee?" this time laying it thick with his charm.

"Okay then" she said, "I'll be there soon."

Hanging up the phone Tony sunk into his chair with a heavy sigh as Ziva lifted her head, "I'm not finding anything about her holding a record in anything."

"Like I said, 'Nut!'Tony said then paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. She was a nut, but he asked Ziva, an accomplished killer, "Do you really think she's capable of killing two people?"

With confidence on her face she replied, "Anyone is capable of anything if given the chance."

Nearly an hour later Shelly arrived at the office wearing a bright red snow cap, bright thick blue coat, black running pants, and Croc shoes, not something for the wet and cold. Tony with a cup of hot coffee from Starbucks, better than the black oil being served in the building, but when giving her the coffee he had to hold his breath as there was a stench lingering over her, smelled like she hadn't bathed in days. Leading her into the interview room Ziva was already waiting in the other room watching them through the one way mirror. Tony said, "Thank you for coming in. I know that the weather is bad, but we'll make sure to get you travel reimbursement" and flashing his 1000 watt smile.

Shelly had her coffee in hand and smiled back before taking a long sip and feeling the hot liquid rolling down her throat.

"Now, going back to what we were discussing on the phone..." Tony began with. He didn't mention that the Walkers were dead. Though two deaths were reported on the news, they had yet to reveal their identities. This, it was hoped, would give them an edge over Shelly, if she knew she was suspected of their murders, then she might shut up. "You were saying that you were fired because of..." and stopping himself there.

Shelly rambled with that raspy voice, "Well, what happened was, she called the boss, our boss, and was telling him that I was abusing and insulting my patients. And, so, our boss called me in and said that they were concerned about my well-being and wanted to lock me up in the mental ward."

She was playing the pronoun game forcing Tony to ask, "She? Who is she?"

"Her!" Shelly replied sharply. Again, Tony didn't know who 'she' was so he turned his head slightly towards her with an inquisitive look trying to silent coax Shelly to give up the identity. "Emily Walker" finally coming out with it. "What happened was, was, she called our boss and said I was doing all of this so she could get me out of the way so she could get promoted to be second in command of the group. Emily wasn't as good as me, both as a woman and as a councilor. She was dealing with patients like senators and congressmen..."

That's when Tony knew that Shelly was crazy, but he remained silent and just allowed her to spill it.

McGee was trying frantically to get Hart to stop and listen and try to convince him to come to the office and talk it over, but when he heard about the base, that's when he flipped his lid and adamantly refused thinking that they were going to kidnap and brainwash him. The only chance he seemed to have was to go visit the grandmother's house there and pray that she was of sound mind.

Shelly continued, "I was at that facility for many years, over ten years, and when she first arrived there, Emily and her husband kept attacking me both physically and psychologically. They would leave nasty notes under my door, and have our commander give me bad fitness reports.

"How'd you know it was they?"

"I worked with the FBI and the CIA..." Shelly began. Tony nearly burst with laughter, but was able to restrain himself. "I worked closely with them and they were able to trace everything to Walker and her husband."

"Why do you think that they were targeting you?" Tony asked. His curiosity was running and he wanted to see how far down the rabbit hole it was going to take him and watching her go live it was better than a movie.

"It was because she was jealous, or something, against me for my many accomplishments. I have several World Records and I have an MBA. And, and, she committed libel against me and I wanted sue, but her father is Senate majority leader and his father (Mr. Walker) owns the New York Times. That allows them to write so much against me and my family and censor anything negative about them. They're trying to silence me."

"Silence you about what?"

"I was able to uncover that both of them were in bed with the Bush family. That they were able to get special favors that got them positions in my facility, and when I uncovered this-that's when they tried to have me committed against my will." Throughout this entire interview, Shelly had her large dark brown eyes locked onto Tony that made him nervous. This woman was out of her skull and she had a lot of resentment towards the victims, but she had not pegged that they were dead. But, in listening to her ramble on and on, Tony was having doubts of her ability to kill because she seemed too random or incoherent enough to break into a person's house quietly and shoot them. She looked more like the crazy cat lady down the road.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to NCIS. They're owned by MSNBC.

Gibbs was not idle while his team worked. As they dealt with Shelly and Hart, he went to the Walker's facilities to speak with their commanders. First was the husband's place, the facility where he sat down with Lt Commander Elisa Pond. She was in her late thirties with long dark brunette hair, almond shaped hazel eyes and firm skin and toned athletic body. Around her office were many awards and certificates from marathons, runs, and charity events. When she spoke with Gibbs she had a slight southern accent, but her eyes conveyed sadness as she knew what happened to the Walkers, "It's tragic. I've knew both of them well. Why would anyone do that to such a lovely couple?"

"That's why I'm here" Gibbs said firmly, "Most murders are committed by someone known to the victim."

"You think it's someone here?" Pond nearly whispered in surprise, then looked up to ensure that the door was closed.

Gibbs kept a low tone, his blue eyes looking at Commander Pond studying her every move. He could read people when they answered his questions, like a living polygraph. "Again, that's why I'm here. I need to know if the Walkers had any enemies or people holding grudges," leaving out Shelly deliberately so there was no prompting.

Pond paused for a moment, slumped back into her chair, "That's the thing, Agent Gibbs. I could only think of only one person that would hate the Walkers. Hate is a strong word, but with Shelly O'Mally, she seemed to hate everyone she met."

"Tell me about her" Gibbs said leaning back in his seat getting comfortable. He didn't need a pad of paper to write notes on, he could remember it all.

Pond smirked then shook her head as many bad memories came rolling in. "She started off fine, but after a couple of years there was a marked decline in her fitness reports. Patients were starting to complain that she was being blunt and sometimes aggressive with them. In one case she yelled and slapped a patient with her notebook."

Gibbs slightly nodded, "Tell me about that one."

"I can't give names, but the patient was a sailor, young kid, I think 18 or 19," Pond said with a reluctant sigh of frustration, "He watched his friend get blown up by a ruptured fuel tank, his blood and brains sprayed over his body. It gave him nightmares, he would tremble, get sick, have panic attacks. He told all of that to O'Malley and she, in turn, accused him of being a coward and thought slapping him would bring him around." Pausing for a moment she added, "She was more than a handful. She accused pretty much everyone in the facility of being out to get her, that we were trying to ruin her image, that we were trying to kill her. Her food would disappear form the fridge, her computer was turned in a different way, the hallways smelled differently," Pond tossed her hands out at chest level, "It's all a conspiracy against her. The thing is, Agent Gibbs, she didn't bring her own food. The cleaning crew were the ones that moved their computer to get at the dust, and added lemon to their soap when cleaning the halls. To us it's all reasonable, but to her..." pursing her lips she shook her head. "We tried to get rid of her, but it's so difficult to fire a government employee because she's a civilian, not military. I begged the brass and lodged criminal complaints against her for simple assault and destroying government property. That got her fired. When she was gone, we threw a party" then she smiled remembering the great relief that fell over the facility.

"I see" Gibbs replied, "What about the Walkers? I heard they and O'Mally butted heads many times."

"Oh, yes" the commander nodded. "Emily and Andrew met while they were working here. She was always so upbeat, cheerful, always had a smile. Believe it or not, some of the workers here actually complained that she was too happy. Too happy! Can you believe it?" Pond chuckled, "Ah, she was always a good officer, great in what she did. Andrew...Andrew was the same way. Emily was soft spoken, affectionate, would hug her patients to help them. Andrew sometimes added a bit of discipline to his patients. Sometimes a person needs either a stern talking to, or some rough critique to get them to focus, and both ways worked. I never got anything negative from their patients. On the other hand, Shelly, when Shelly found out about their teaching methods, she lodged a complaint to me saying that Emily was sleeping with her patients and Andrew was abusing his patients." Gritting her teeth, Commander Pond's hands gripped the rests of her chair tightly. " I remember that day when she lodged the complaint. I had to call Shelly in and she went off on a tangent."

Gibbs held up a brief hand to interject, "Would that be around the time of promotions?"

Pond's eyebrows buckled, her eyes grew wide, "Oh, yes. Yes it was. The promotion boards had gone out and I had it on my desk. I hadn't posted it yet."

"What happened when you posted them?"

Swallowing hard Pond looked down for a moment at her desk and then looked up, "Agent Gibbs, I graduated High School over twenty years ago. When that piece of paper went onto the board...Shelly lost it. She accused everyone had sabotaged her work. Including me. She went into my office demanding things. That was the first time I ever yelled at someone," then shook her head, "I have to admit, when I stood up and yelled back at her...the look on her face. She was shocked that someone was standing up to her."

"Did the Walkers ever argue with her?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah. Once. Same thing happened. This was after the promotion board went up. Andrew caught Shelly trying to get into his office. He called her out, she said the only reason why she married someone like Emily was so he could sleep his way to the top."

"Those are big words" Gibbs replied with a slight nod. Challenging a man's quality like that. "What did he do?"

"He went off. Everyone thought me shouting was bad, when Andrew did it, whew. Shelly nearly popped out of her skin. I didn't think a man could be that loud, Agent Gibbs. Shelly ran away like a little dog with her tail between her legs."

"No one else you can think of that would have a grudge against them?" Gibbs asked.

"No!" she cried. "Everyone else loved them. They were made for each other. Their fitness reports reflected that. I have an Open Door Policy. The only time they used it was when Shelly still worked here."

"What about their trip to Pearl Harbor," Gibbs asked noticing Pond's face, "There was an incident at the Arizona Memorial."

It took the officer a moment to remember, her eyes glanced down at the desk darting left to right. "Oh. Oh, yeah" she groaned rubbing her forehead with one hand, "Yeah. That. I remember now. They told me about that. They were on vacation, a late honeymoon. Some idiot, crazy man, jumps into the water, Andrew jumps in after him. They fight, but the man gets knocked out. It was a mess. I heard that he tried to sue Andrew, but they only told me it once when someone showed me the video on YouTube."

"You never saw the man?"

She shook her head, "No. I didn't even know his name. They only discussed it once. That was after another employee showed me the video and I called them in to discuss it. No police or lawyers showed up, so I thought it was settled. Agent Gibbs, are you going to catch the person who did this to them?"

"That's my job, commander" Gibbs nodded, "I have a good team with me. We're going to try our best, we won't give up."

"I give up!" DiNozzo staggered out of the interview room. He had been going in circles with Shelly for over an hour. He went into the other room where Ziva watched the whole thing. "This woman is frickin' nuts!"

"So i've noticed" Ziva replied coy. Straightening himself out Tony went over to the one way window and looked at the older woman as she sat at the table, hands together before her resting on its surface, her eyes looking at the closed door. "Nothing is her fault."

Tony jerked his head towards the Israeli, "How's that?"

"I'm not a doctor, even though I have a lot in my family, "But in watching her I noticed a few things."

"Yeah! Cookoo!" winding a finger beside his temple.

"There's a better reasoning for it, Tony," Ziva smirked then held up a finger to him, "Now, i'm not a doctor, but what she appears to have is paranoia of the persecution type. In her mind everything has to be a certain way, in this case-her way. Nothing is ever her fault. If she doesn't get a promotion, someone is out to get her."

"Yeah, but what we need to know..." Tony insisted, "Is if this woman here is capable of shooting two people in their house. You're a good judge of character, Ziva. What do you think?"

"I think i'm going to bang my head against this desk until my brains leak out of my eyeballs," McGee groaned. That man was a living headache. Unlike Shelly, this man couldn't keep his man shut. After going around in circles, McGee finally convinced Kevin Hart to come to the office for an interview. Fortunately he avoid any further body pains by not mentioning the Walkers. Getting up from his desk there was a red spot on his forehead from where he smacked himself repeatily and approached Ziva and Tony in the viewing room.

"What happened to you, Probie?" Tony scoffed seeing the red forehead.

"Kevin Hart happened to me" McGee said bluntly showing no amusement in the smirk on Tony's lips. "After all that yammering I managed to get him to come in for an interview. I spoke to his half way house to approve of this, but now I need Aspirin the size of this room to get rid of the headache I have right now."

"Wait. Wait" Tony replied holding up a hand, "You convinced that nut-job to come in?"

"Yeah"

"Imagine what would happen if we put these two in the same room together" Tony snickered.

"Tony," Ziva said suddenly alarmed, "I'm surprised at you. You would put two crazy people in the same room. Do you have any idea what would happen if we do that? What if they're like two chickens fighting, clawing at each other. We do that then we're responsible because we put them in that situation."

Both of the men were surprised at her sudden attitude of alarm and control. After a moment to reflect Tony's eyes shifted left to right and it hit him that his sophomore behavior would get all of them into trouble. "When Mr. Hart comes in, McGee will make sure that he and Ms. O'Mally don't see each other, got it?" holding up a sharp finger to Tony who nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to NCIS. They're owned by MSNBC.

 _"Oh to die in a lover's embrace. The last image I see in this life is the life in your eyes. The touch of your sweet lips against mine as we embrace each other and leave this world behind..."_ that's what Ducky was saying to himself as he walked around the operating tables where Mr. and Mrs. Walker lay near each other. Their uniforms removed for evidence as Ducky prepared to cut them open. He hated to do it, but his job dictated it so. Having covered himself in surgical garb complete with gloves, he approached the head of Mrs. Walker and looked her over. She was pretty. Her eyes and soft facial features made it seem that she was sleeping.

His assistant, Mr. Palmer, pushed a tray of surgical equipment to him. He heard Ducky reciting a poem, "Where did you learn that one?"

"Oh, I just made it up" Ducky half smiled behind his mask, "When you get to be as old as me, you tend to recite things that enter your mind and not care if anyone hears it," then he raised up a single finger, "Or, you say it in the hope that the _right_ one hears it."

His eyes then turned towards the dearly departed couple. Ducky shook his head slightly, they were so young. He had seen many people die before, but he never got use to it. Each patient that he took care of was a person, a family member. He remembered that and held on to that. Each person was unique, had a personality. If they were here then they died horribly, before their time. Now he had to go over them for clues to find who put them here.

At the same time, up in the office...

The elevator doors opened and there stood a trembling, portly shaped man with wide eyes. "Get moving, sweetie," and elderly woman pushed him from behind with a bit of force. She had long gray hair combed back in a large bun, wore a fake fur coat and a matching hat. Seeing the two approach, McGee stood up from his desk, buttoned his jacket, walked around his desk and held out his hand, "Hi. You must be Mr. Hart" But the man merely looked at McGee's hand and turned away.

Behind him the woman insisted, "Kevin, don't be rude. Shake the man's hand," before looking up at McGee and smiling. Reluctantly Kevin reached out and shook McGee's hand and immediately withdrew his hand back into his coat pocket.

"Well, thank you for coming in. I mean, I know that the weather has been terrible, but we have a few questions for you..." McGee began to say, but the mention of 'questions' got Kevin excited. He turned and began to walk away only to have the woman grasp his collar and jerk him back into place, all the while keeping a smile on her thin red lips. "You must be his grandmother."

"Yes, dear" she nodded, "Kevin here is my only grandson. I try to instill him with manners, but, you know some boys-they're stubborn about orders from women."

McGee smirked and looked at Kevin who couldn't keep up eye contact. "Well, why don't you come with me to the interview room and we'll get this over with and i'll sign your travel voucher." The walk into the back rooms was careful. Shelly was still there with DiNozzo. But Ziva had a room set for them. Going into the room there was a table and two chairs. Mrs. Hart saw this and asked for another chair, but Ziva suddenly appeared and asked if she could speak to Mrs. Hart in the other room. She was reluctant to leave her grandson, but Ziva charmed her saying that the room had a one-way mirror and a microphone so they could see and hear everything. She agreed and kissed her grandson's forehead saying she'll be right next door. It was all part of the plan; get them separated so they could interview them without interference from one another.

Kevin sat down across from McGee looking towards the mirror that way Ziva could see all of his reactions to McGee's questions. He refused to take off his winter jacket despite the warm temperature of the room. He sat with his legs splayed, hands tucked into his pockets. He slouched in his chair and didn't look at McGee as he sat across from him with hands on the desk in a casual matter.

Behind him Ziva showed Mrs. Hart what was going on. "Is Kevin in some sort of trouble, Ms..."

The Israeli smiled and nodded, "Please, call me Ziva." The informal appearance was a hope to put her at-ease.

"Very well, Ziva. I'm Daisy" the old lady smiled, "But, why is Kevin here. Has he caused more trouble?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, ma'am. Not sure if you heard the news, but two Navy officers were shot in their homes today."

Daisy gasped and held both hands to her lips, "Oh my! That's terrible. You think my grandson had something to do with it?"

"We're just covering our bases, ma'am. See, the two officers were Mr. and Mrs. Walker..."

Daisy's mind, though old, was still sharp and quickly remembered the names. Her hands fell to her sides, "Oh no. That man who tried to save him in Hawaii." Her eyes flicked towards the window where Kevin sat unmoved as McGee began talking. She pursed her lips and shook her head, "Ziva, I know that my grandson is...troubled. It sort of runs in the family. If it's not alcohol then it's mental trouble, or both together. My sister was put into the funny farm when she was only 16 and my father and his father were all dead beat drunks." She paused to take a deep breath, "I tried my _darnest_ to make sure that Kevin didn't follow them, but I guess I couldn't. When he was in elementary school he was all As and perfect attendance, but once he started High School he started causing trouble. He would argue with teachers, throw chairs, and then run out of class. He began hallucinating, talking to himself, and constantly thought that people were out to get him. His parents tried to get him to take medicine, but he thought it was poison. So, his parents sent him to me in the hopes I could help him." The more she talked about it, the more it upset her that she nearly cried. Ziva handed her a tissue. "Thank you, dear" gently dabbing her eyes with it, "I sent Kevin to Hawaii hoping that it would calm him down. But, it only made things worse. You see, my husband was in Pearl Harbor that day. He was in the Naval yards working on the ships in dry-dock. He went back there every year to meet with his friends until he passed away a few years ago. That's why we went there. But...I'm sure you saw the videos. I saw them. He jumped from the memorial and into the water. OH! I thought I would have to pay for damages. Then he tried to get into that thing...the large ring...whatever it was...and Mr. Walker tried to stop him. Ziva, I was there on the dock of the memorial when Kevin was fished out of there and he was knocked out. At that moment I felt that it should have put him down." The words were striking. Ziva could say nothing but look on, "I know, it's hard for a grandmother to say. I love Kevin, like any grandmother should. But...he's caused so much trouble that I can't stand it anymore." She broke down and wept.

McGee couldn't hear any of that. Kevin didn't say anything. Not even a simple question, "Why am I here?" None of that. He had the appearance of a stuffed animal, just sitting limp in the chair waiting to be played with. "Kevin...may I call you Kevin?" McGee began. Kevin didn't acknowledge. "I'm with the NCIS, The Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Now, you're not in any trouble, but I do have a few questions for you to answer, and you'll be on your way." Still Kevin didn't speak. Frowning, McGee continued, "Your grandmother is right behind me, watching. So, don't be afraid. If you want to stop at any time, let me know, and we'll stop. What I need to know is where you've been in the past few days."

Kevin's gaze fell to the floor. His right foot, crossed over his left, slowly started to spin. He was amused by it.

"Kevin, I need you to talk to me. I know that you're supposed to be in a half-way house, but you're visiting your grandmother. I just need to know what you've been doing these past few days. Whatever is said here is not going to be heard by the half-way house..."

In the viewing room, the door opened and in walked Tony with a smile. When he saw Daisy he immediately held out a hand and gently shook it as Ziva filled him in on what was happening. No mention was made about Shelly. The reason why Tony was here was he let her go after getting all of the available information on her whereabouts for the past few days. He was glad to see her go. Any more roundabout talks from her and he wanted to slam his head onto his desk like McGee.

Ziva asked, "Mrs. Hart, in the past week, what have you and your grandson been doing?"

"He mostly stays at the house," Daisy said, her eyes now glued on her grandson through the mirror. "He's too afraid to go outside, and he hates the cold. He wears that jacket of his inside even though I have the furnace going. He stays in the guest room I have for him. His half-way house calls every day and they speak to him to make sure that he's with me."

"Does he use the internet?" asked Ziva.

Daisy shook her head, "No, dear. I don't have the internet. Hate it. It's good for nothing. I have a radio and a TV." There was a brief smile as she said, "That's where I watch my stories. That's it. If you think that Kevin would kill those two, I don't think it's possible. He doesn't know where they live."

"Are you sure, ma'am?" asked DiNozzo.

This made Daisy pause to think. In truth, she didn't know. She couldn't keep her eyes on her grandson every minute and didn't check every bit of mail coming to him. That made her worry. It showed on her wrinkled face she turned and walked away from the window. "Oh dear. I hope he didn't do it."

"Daisy," Ziva asked softly, "Does Kevin have access to a pistol?"

The old lady turned to her, eyes open, "My...my husband had a pistol. He got it during the war, for protection."

"What kind is it?"

"It was a...Colt .45. He loved that thing. I hate guns. They're so dangerous. But, when he passed away, he pleaded for me not to sell or give it away. I kept it, but with our family history, I kept it locked away in a safe."

Tony asked, "Does Kevin know about it?"

"Yes, dear."

Tony then asked, "Does he know the combination?"

"No," Daisy shook her head. "Only I do..." but she paused and began to second guess herself.

"Ma'am, may we see the pistol?"

Daisy had to sit down. All of this was rushing up on her. She trembled. Ziva gave her a chair to sit on. Daisy leaned forward slightly, hands against her own cheeks. "Oh my! My Kevin wouldn't shoot anybody."

"We're not saying he did, Daisy" Ziva said squatting down next to her, "But, if you can show us that weapon, we can have him cleared of this and you two can go on your way." Daisy agreed.

All they had to do now was wait for McGee to finish with Kevin, but he was speaking to a doll. Kevin was showing no emotion to anything McGee was asking, not even his own last name. McGee didn't know what to do.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to NCIS. They're owned by MSNBC.

Gibbs' phone vibrated and he promptly answered, "What do you got, DiNozzo?"

"Boss, we are interviewing Kevin Hart and his Grandmother, but get this-she has a pistol, a Colt .45. She says he doesn't have access to it, but she's willing to let us take it in for examination."

"Good" Gibbs nodded, "What else?"

Tony's eyes glanced left and right. He didn't have much else to say, but didn't want to tell his boss that they weren't making headway, "I'll let McGee explain it" and handed the phone off to his counterpart before hustling off to join Ziva, Kevin and Grandmother at the elevator."

When McGee placed the receiver to his ear he could feel a sense of cold rushing through his body as Gibbs waited patiently for an answer, "Boss, we interviewed Shelly. She even allowed us to test her hands for powder residue. Abby is testing it now." That would help, but she could have washed her body and clothes. "Plus she has an alibi for this morning that she was at home, on her computer. I'm running through her information now."

"Keep on it, McGee," Gibbs said firmly. "I'm with the Walker's superior now. They're granting us access to their files. When Ziva and Tony get back, you three comb through them." The way it was sounding Gibbs didn't seem to feel like either one of their first suspects were in the spotlight, but Gibbs was casting a wide net and Kevin and Shelly were not going to stray from his gaze.

Within a couple of hours Ziva and Tony returned with the pistol. It was well cleaned and oiled and it didn't appear to have been fired in years. They turned it over to Abby as they returned to their desks to find piles of files and their hearts dropped. "What's all this, Probie?" Tony scoffed as he sat down to a stack in front of his computer.

"The Walker's case files," McGee replied as he was already combing through the records. "Boss wants us to look for anyone that jumps out."

Smirking his thin lips Tony asked, "You don't think the crazies killed them?"

McGee sighed bitterly, "No. I don't."

"Why not? You got a crystal ball in your desk?"

Without looking McGee responded, "Both of them lack courage. They have a lot of animosity towards the Walkers, but either one has a backbone. I don't think they have the ability to quietly enter a home and shoot the two with a single bullet, and get away without detection."

Tony didn't want to admit it, but he was right. Kevin was overweight, lacked focus, and easily cowed when looked at. Shelly was much the same way. This kind of attack had to have been made by someone with skills, but Tony and the others didn't want to write either of them off the list, they may still be involved.

Settling at their desks they carefully peeled page after page of years of work at a mental care facility. Each case was unique and they felt like opening the lid off a cookie jar because these were files for special eyes only, but they gave an insight to strangers, some were humorous, others were mundane, and others were tragic.

One file read of Emily Walker's files, _"Brian came in today at 1100. He had cried through the night and says that he continues to see the faces of his dead friend. He wanted to take his pills and drown it with beer, but we had a long talk that calmed him down. I feel that Brian needs to have inpatient care at the hospital. The pills he's been prescribed are not working, and I'm afraid that he will not be able to function without help. I have assured him he will be cared for, on base, and his command will help him as much as possible. I hope this works. He will maintain contact with me as he had my number."_

One of Robert's files read, _"Byron has said that the hazing from his squad has continued to escalate. Two days ago his Fire Team Leader had locked him inside a footlocker and rolled down a flight of stairs. His Company Commander is unwilling to even try and stop these brutal attacks, so I informed his Battalion Commander-in person-and this was the first time hearing of such abuses. All previous attempts to notify command and the Company Commander was stopping them. Colonel Whitehall flew into a rage, called in Captain Dillman and not only dressed him down, while I listened, but also called for a Court-Martial."_

The last one nearly moved McGee to tears, _"Edgar called me at 1 in the morning on 1 January. He was crying saying he had a pistol to his head. He wanted to end it. None of the medicine wasn't helping. No sleep in a week. His squad leader called him a 'coward' and told him to 'man up. Marines are not soft and weak'. I had to plead with him for a couple of hours to calm him down. He was off-base, we had trouble tracking him down, but my husband was able to find him in a park miles away. He had cut his wrists several times with a knife and lost a lot of blood. He's safe now in a VA Hospital. I'm visiting him every day in hospital."_

The Walkers showed a lot of care for their patients. All of the case files referred to them by their given names-to make them personal, they would visit their patients either in hospital, in their units, or in person at their homes or barracks, visit their command to make sure that they weren't being mistreated. It was sad to see that such caring people had to die this way.

"This guy looks interesting," Tony replied pulling one folder away from the others. "Captain Dillman was brought up on charges after Mr. Walker informed battalion that he was allowing abuse of a Marine. A lot of abuse." Some searching on the computer brought some information, but any hopes of linking him to their murder were quickly dashed when Tony found that though charged with insubordination, but given only an Article 15. It should have been worse, a dismissal from the service would be fitting. But, Dillman was transferred to a small depot in the middle of no-where, Texas three months ago and was still there. Perhaps that was a better punishment, a place where he couldn't escape from and no chance to elevate in the service.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to NCIS. They are owned by CBS.

The investigation was progressing slowly. Having access to the Walker's patient logs, the Team had to comb through all of the case files carefully, but it felt tedious. Hours straining to read the typed and hand written notes made their eyes sore that Tony slumped into his chair, undid his tie, and threw it onto the desk letting out a long sigh as his shoulders sagged. He must have read over a hundred patient files trying to find one that would pop out, perhaps a crazy patient off his meds that the Walkers feared, or a patient that vowed revenge for some disagreement. So far, nothing came out. If anything, the Walkers appeared to be the ideal councilors, officers, and as a couple. But, why were they shot in their own home?

Based on their experiences, most murder victims knew their attackers. If it wasn't a family member, or a coworker, then it might be one of the many patients they were treating. Their patients were service members coming back from combat zones, it's likely that there was a patient that finally snapped. Perhaps one of the Walkers informed on them to command that the patient posed a risk, as was required. There were hundreds of patients to comb through and McGee, Ziva and DiNozzo were trying their best, but didn't feel like they were making headway. Most of the patients were dealt with calmly, carefully, and there were no notes of threats, intimidation, violence or anything of the sort in their files.

Lifting her tired eyes from the papers, Ziva leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment to rest. Opening them up, she looked across and saw McGee was now transfixed on a pad of paper. He had been reading this particular case file for several minutes and seem interested. Most of the other case files were simple; often just twenty pages or less and none of them up till now seem to pose a risk, that is until McGee stood up saying, "I think I got something."

"What's that, Probie?" DiNozzo groaned. He stretched his arms above his head and popped his knuckles. Not wanting to admit it, but he was also feeling the strain of hours of reading. By now the words on the page were bleeding and forming together into a massive blot.

Walking around his desk towards the center of their little square, McGee continued to read the case file. It was heavy. Unlike the others being twenty pages or so, this one was over 3 inches thick. "This one is about Army Specialist Isaac Ford of the 11th Transportation Battalion out of Fort Eustis. He reported to Lt. Emily Walker as a patient after being deployed to Iraq two years ago." His two cohorts sat listening, interested in where it was going. Reading a few lines down on the lieutenant's fine hand writing, "Yeah, says here that the unit was infested with crime and corruption. Specialist Ford accused the officers and First Sergeant of allowing them to occur, and in some cases-inciting and taking part. In one case, a male soldier was sexually assaulted. His injuries were so severe that he required two surgeries and a medical discharge and the company refused to do anything about despite Ford knowing who did it. Ford instead when reported this to JAG and investigation was launched." McGee's face suddenly dropped and he paused as he went further.

A hand rose up, held up by Tony high above his head while the other arm reached across his body to prop up that arm while saying, "Oh! Oh! Mr. Probie! Mr. Probie! I got a question."

Gritting his teeth inside without showing his lips, McGee growled, "What, Tony?"

His arms dropped, "Why is the Navy dealing with Army patients? Don't they have their own personnel to deal with them?"

Knowing the answer, McGee lightly shrugged his shoulders, "Overflow. Their combat stress units are understaffed and swamped. If I remember, some councilors have to deal with over 400 patients each.

"Keep going, Probie," Tony smirked as he reclined in his seat, "You have me on the edge of my seat," his tone had a hint of sarcasm. He was always teasing the younger, less experienced member of the group despite McGee's years of service in the NCIS and many acts of intelligence and bravery, it made Tony feel more like a big brother if he gave the younger man a little hassle.

"Someone leaked who the whistle-blower was. Ford was found severely beaten in a park on-base. He required surgery to his face and back. When he recovered, he refused to back down and began reporting other incidents in the unit including, sexual assaults, intimidation, and even cowardice for his captain."

Tony pursed his lips. Did sound interesting, but Ziva was the one whom asked, "Do you think this is connected with the Walker's deaths how?"

The answer came on the next page. Running the tip of his finger down the page as he read, he found it, "Here. This is directly from the Lieutenant following an appointment with Ford just six months ago, " _About twenty minutes after our appointment, I received a call from Captain Troy, Ford's commander of the 11th. He asked if Ford was being seen by me, but I couldn't confirm that he was. The Captain kept pressing me for answers and each time I refused to divulge them because of law. After twenty minutes of probing, he became so frustrated that he swore at me and said that I better watch my ass and that women wouldn't last long under fire before hanging up. What a charming man."_

He was definitely on to something. But it didn't end there. The best part came when Ford reported on the incident where he accused Captain Troy of cowardice.

"Probie, why don't you read the whole thing to us," Tony asked. He was a movie lover and wanted to listen to the man's oratory skills to try and picture the scenes in his mind while he relaxed. McGee's stern look didn't sway him into changing his mind while Ziva seemed content to just listen. Problem was, Ford was a detailed writer and committed a whole 15 pages into this one incident that McGee shuddered trying to read it all. Tony continued to goad him into reading, but McGee decided to abridge it.

 _Ford was the passenger of the last vehicle in a 15 vehicle convoy moving north from Nasiriyah to Baghdad. The driver was his friend, PFC Jax. They were ten miles outside of Nasiriyah when they were hit by a large insurgent force which included Technicals, machine guns, mortars, RPGs, and small arms fire. The insurgents were being tactical in their ambush. They hit the lead and last vehicle to trap those in the center, but most of the vehicles managed to get out of the kill-zone by ramming the blocking truck. Only one other vehicle was disabled, Captain Troy's Humvee. He, his driver, and three passengers dismounted and all of them held up inside of a large, abandoned building on the side of the road to hold out until relief arrived. With no radio, two severe casualties, and possessing only M-16s, the group was surrounded and the insurgents tried to attack from all sides to finish them off. They tried to ram the front gate with a Technical, but the gate held and the Technical was shot up and disabled. This vehicle blocked any further attempt to ram the gate. During that time, Captain Troy was seen standing there with a bleached face and trembling, rifle in one hand and the other at his side. He was idle, having not fired a single shot in the whole course of the battle. When another Technical rolled by the building firing its heavy machine at them, Captain Troy panicked, threw down his rifle and threw up his hands telling us to surrender. He screamed that there was no point in fighting as they would be killed. Specialist Jax tackled him and restrained him. He had lost control of himself, screaming mad that we were going to die. Because the Captain was deemed to be 'incapacitated', command devolved down to me as ranking soldier present. We weren't going to surrender. We had two wounded, but stable, men and two women in our group. I feared for their safety more than my own knowing what the insurgents would do to them after watching Nick Berg and others get beheaded on the Internet._

At first, Tony wasn't interested, merely feigning it, but as the story progressed-he leaned forward in his seat and leaned forward until his elbows resting on top of his desk, hands holding up his head.

 _We had working rifles, ammunition, a defensive perimeter; we were fighting. The insurgents tried another time to get in by trying to blow a hole in the wall with RPGs. By this time the Captain was now full of fright that he ran out of the building, scaled the small perimeter wall, and made a run for it, all the while shedding all of his equipment._

"Holy cow," Tony scoffed, shaking his head. He had seen a lot of strange things in his time. However, an officer in the United States Army chickening out under fire and running, was something he had not seen.

 _We held our position for nearly an hour until reinforcements arrived in the form of an MP company and the remaining vehicles of our convoy. On their arrival, the insurgents broke contact. We were able to comb the field around the perimeter and found twelve bodies and the blood trails of many others, plus two Technicals were destroyed by our fire. Our two casualties were evacuated and survived. Captain Troy, by some miracle, was picked up by our reinforcements unharmed. However, when he was picked up, he informed the MP lieutenant commanding that we had been wiped out._

McGee continued with a note written by Lt. Walker saying that Ford had lodged this complaint against Troy with JAG following the appointment, but he wasn't done. No. McGee continued reading. While this moment, despite Troy's alleged cowardice, was suppose to be seen as a crowning achievement of bravery against daunting odds, it only went downhill for Ford. He was facing mental trauma not only from battle, but also mental and physical attacks by people in his unit. Lt. Walker carefully wrote that in the course of three months since Ford had returned he suffered; one arm broken when he was pushed down a flight of stairs, his left big toe broken when a sergeant dropped a dumbbell on it, someone hit him in the head with a heavy object while servicing a vehicle that caused a severe concussion, and a sergeant tasered him for so long that he had to be taken to the hospital and held for several days.

"Retaliation?" Tony asked, intrigued by where this was going.

"That's what I'm thinking," McGee replied. "Lt. Walker also wrote that two sergeants from the 11th came to her office demanding copies to all of her appointments. She refused and they tried to intimidate her, but her husband arrived and forced them out and they were arrested.

Ziva's eyes widened slightly, "Two sergeants? First several physical attacks and then two sergeants demanding the files, sounds like Captain Troy is trying to get his followers to clean house."

McGee smiled at her, that's exactly what he was thinking.


End file.
